


Something with Alcohol

by milktea



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, drunk!Niall, pining!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milktea/pseuds/milktea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's confused. Niall's drunk. Feelings. Touching. (Sex.)</p><p>Parts 2/3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry is not a jealous person by nature.  
He isn't perfect, but he definitely isn't a jealous character. His past partners probably have had a few other choice words for him.

("You fucker! How could you -?!"  
 "Just like what the tabloids said...a manslut,"  
 "I hate you! They warned me about you, that you're just a heartbreaker,")

But Harry, with his dimples and low drawl, never has a problem convincing said angry past partners into a threesome with the very people they were about to rip apart under the dim lights of the club and over the thrum of the music. Besides, the more the merrier, right?

Harry doesn't do relationships or commitment. Those two words are just not in his vocabulary, and he has an extensive vocabulary.

Harry loves to flirt and he loves to meet new people. He loves the timidity and hesitance of a first meeting. He loves the shy smiles, the discreet brushes, and the awkward first touches. 

Harry likes to explore new bodies. The human body is a beautiful thing and so very unique that each new body is a whole new world of discovery. Harry consideres himself an adventurer 

Harry prefers it this way though. He has lived 19 years as a free spirit with zero relationships and too many dates to count.

So he doesn't recognize this gut wrenching knot in his stomach and how his mind seems to fog up when he sees his blonde bandmate grinding against a curvy brunette in the middle of the dance floor. It's been two months since Harry has barely acknowledged his crush on Niall. But these feelings now are unpleasant. Nothing like the butterflies or the warmth he has come to associate with Niall. 

Harry has lost count of the number of bodies the blonde had been pressed up against since the birthday party has started. Niall sober is touchy enough but Niall completely buzzed is another story. Friends, acquaintances or strangers, male or female, no one has been able to turn down the small, pale grabby hands leading them to the dance floor. 

But from the look on their faces, he doubts that any of them wants to. Especially when he's grinding against them so enthusiastically. 

But even under the dimmed lights of the club, Harry can see the familiar flush of red coloring the Irish man's cheeks and the curve of a shy smile. Leave it to Niall to pull off an aura of innocence in the middle of a raunchy dance. Harry scoffs into the drink he's neglected for too long, only barely managing to tear his gaze away from the blonde. He can't believe himself. The same time last year, Harry would've been on the dance floor right with all those sweaty, moving bodies. So this is completely out of character for him. Huddled over a barely touched drink and sitting by himself at a club on a Saturday night. 

Not to mention staring at one of his best mates like he's a piece of meat.

And Jesus Christ, why Niall of all people?

Suddenly a large hand clamps down his shoulders and Harry turns so quickly he almost knocks the drink out of his hands.

"Harry, you alright there mate?"  
It's Liam, of course. Everyone else has been quick to leave him alone when they figured the night was too young to have to deal with a sulky 19 year old. But dependable Liam is here now and he's staring at Harry with a concerned look, eye brows furrowing and warm eyes questioning. Obviously there is something wrong if Harry Styles is all by his lonesome on an event like this.

Harry shruggs hoping he appears nonchalant, "Yeah. Just wanted a break from the crowd for awhile." 

But god bless Liam, for all his good intentions, has the perception of a rock.

Liam nods in agreement, plopping himself onto the seat next to his friend. "Ed's thrown a hell of a party tonight. He must have spent a fortune and I think everyone's too smashed to remember that i don't drink. It's getting harder to say no with every offer." 

Harry has to grin at that, "I seriously doubt that. You've got an iron will, Liam. Absolutely solid." And he punches a rock hard bicep for effect.

Liam laughs, "Well, compared to maybe someone like little Nialler, I probably do feel like iron."

The curly haired lad immediately tenses at this. Just when he's starting to forget about his problems for the night, Liam manages to bring everything back full force with the simple mention of the accustomed nickname for their favorite Irishman. 

Little Nialler. The words reverberate in his mind once more and again and again, until it creates a throbbing in his head. Harry can recognize the tone of endearment in Liam's voice. Its nothing new, of course. Daddy Direction's always had a soft spot for Niall. Truth be told, everyone did. And for some reason, the thought brings back that knot in his stomach. 

"Harry?"

Liam's hand is on his shoulder again and it feels so much heavier this time. But Harry thinks he needs that extra weight to keep him grounded because even though he's barely had a sip of his drink, his head feels like it's going to explode. He forces himself to form words. "Sorry, Li. Must have had too much to drink. Feel a little out of it tonight."

Liam doesn't take long to react. He's been on full Daddy Alert since the party started. Harry knows this only because he's seen Liam most of the night, fussing over an unstoppable ball of energy also known as Niall. "I think it's time to go home. Best get the rest of the gang."

And Liam's off before Harry can reply. He considers convincing Liam to stay and enjoy the party so he can leave early alone. Because Harry is a whirl of emotions right now and he doesn't think he can trust himself near a very drunk and very compliant Irish man.

Like most days, Harry hears him before he sees him.  

"Harrrrreeeehhhhh!" 

Harry can recognize this barely coherent Irish slur anywhere. Niall must have managed to get even drunker since Harry had last seen him. No doubt this has happened while Daddy Direction had been too busy keeping his moody bandmate company to prevent more shots from happening.

"Harrrrreeehhhhh!"  
This time the voice is a lot closer and all too soon a small, warm body wraps itself behind him. There's a sudden hit of the smell of alcohol that floods his senses but underneath that, Harry can recognize the hint of vanilla and just something distinctly sweet in the air. 

"Peek-a-boo I found you! " Niall giggles into his ear which he nuzzles affectionately with his nose. Harry's heart accelerates without warning at the small action but he refuses to turn around and look at him and only replies with s thick, "Hey Niall,"

But that doesn't seem to deter the small blonde because he's moved around and he's crawling onto his lap and god damnit if he doesn't fit in there so perfectly. 

"Hey Harreh!" Niall returns the greeting with a wide grin from his position on his lap, looking completely comfortable. He has already weaved his arms around Harry's neck and legs swing out on one side like a child's. Harry tries to convince himself that he's only using his hands to keep Niall steady because he won't stop wiggling.

"Jesus, Niall, I told you to wait for me." 

Harry hadn't noticed Liam behind them and he kind of flinches almost guiltily as if he'd been caught doing something wrong. Although it's Niall who is the one on his lap, with his arms around his neck, and his lips-

Niall obviously hadn't heard Liam at all (or maybe has chosen to just ignore him) because he is too busy biting and chewing at the collar of Harry's blazer like an attention starved puppy. 

Harry risks a glance at Liam because he thinks it'll be less embarrassing than the sight awaiting just below him. But Liam merely looks exhausted. "Zayn's apparently already left with Perrie. And I can't find Louis for the life of me."

"You tried giving him a call?" Harry asks in a completely normal tone, as if he does not currently have his crush all over him. 

"Yeah but I think he's turned it on vib-," a message alert from his phone cuts him off and Liam's face visibly pales when he finishes his text. "Well, now we know where Louis is. Josh found him in the loo, he's managed to honk everywhere except in the toilet."

"I better go get him. You alright to take Niall back?"

No. Don't leave me with him. Harry wants to say. But he just nods mutely and watches Liam scurry off to rescue another unfortunate being. 

Harry sighes and he realizes that Niall has been unusually quiet. Niall's far too gone by now to walk so Harry easily heaves him on to his broad back to carry him out. Barely anyone turns to stare at them. There's nothing unusual about bodies being carried out unconscious at this club. 

It isn't too long before a cab stops next to the pair. None of them had brought their cars with them because no one expected to be sober enough to even find their cars by the end of the night. (Except Liam, of course, but Louis had stolen and hid his keys in case he decided to make a dash for it in the middle and neglect his duties as Daddy Direction, Louis' words to be exact.) 

Harry's lips curve into an automatic smile when he sees the blonde, still sleeping peacefully in his arms, blue eyes now hiding behind heavy eyelids and a flushed cheek is pressed to his chest right above his heart. His eyes zoom on a loose  curl above his small ears. And gods, everything about Niall is so small. 

Harry hesitates but there's nothing stopping him now. Niall is blissfully unaware and the cab driver has barely spared them a glance since they've got in the car. By the 70's classic rock playing on the radio, the Cheshire lad highly doubted that he's ever heard of One Direction.

And before his mind can convince him otherwise, Harry is already reaching out. His fingers linger on the soft skin of his ear and he can't resist trailing a finger down to the earlobe. And Harry can't help but think how glad he is that Niall is afraid of needles and sharp objects of the kind. 

But a moan makes Harry drop his hands like he'd been burned. Niall's eyes flutter open and he whines. But he isn't whining because Harry had touched him. He's whining because Harry had stopped. Eyes still shut, Niall reaches blindly for Harry's retreating hand and places them back onto his ear. But when Harry keeps his fingers tense and still around the outer curve of his ear, Niall's eyes flutter open and deep blue eyes meet anxious green ones. 

Harry feels like he'd suddenly plunged into ice water. It's those eyes that had done it for him. Blue eyes which are radiating childish innocence and a twinkle of confusion which have managed to bring Harry back down to earth. 

Harry sighs in defeat, "Go to sleep, Niall," 

"Are you mad, Harry?" He isn't slurring anymore or maybe it isn't as obvious only because Niall is whispering. 

"I'll wake you up when we arrive,"

For the rest of the ride, they remain silent. Niall tries to snuggle deeper into the younger boy's side, but Harry is careful to avoid the press of flesh against flesh.  Although he keeps an arm around the smaller boy, Harry's face stays stubbornly angled towards the window, eyes shut painfully tight.

 

AN: My first ever Narry fic. Please go easy on me :) I was going to make it into two parts, but I'm considering adding a third part. But then again I want to start on my other ideas. And I can't multitask.


	2. Chapter 2

All Harry wants to do is get Niall to bed and seek the comfort of his own bed, or wherever he can be out of arm's reach from his bandmate. Anything closer and he doesn't know what he'd do to the object of his affections, inhibited and completely compliant to every one of his touches.

Harry is infinitely relived that Niall has fallen asleep on the ride even though it means carrying him to his room. But Niall awake is worse.  
Harry easily balances the small weight on his back with one hand as he uses the free one to unlock the door. It's a familiar action, one that he's repeated on many occasions over the last couple of years. But it has never been done over the thrum of his rapid heartbeat.

He doesn't bother to turn the lights on, already knowing the room's layout like the back of his hand. 

When he reaches the bedroom, Harry is careful to set the boy down as to not wake him up although he doubts anything would be able to. He doesn't know if it is fear or concern that guide his actions tonight.

Harry mentally debates between undressing Niall and leaving him to sleep uncomfortably in his current attire or changing him to some pajamas. But since the latter involves undressing the small boy and god forbid, seeing more of the creamy pale skin, Harry settles on taking his shoes and jacket off. 

But as his nervous fingers stumble on the zipper, he doesn't expect the sudden grab on his blazer as he is tugged down to meet blue. 

Seconds feel like hours as both bodies remain frozen in their positions. Harry's larger body looming over the older lad as he holds himself up on strong arms, and with his knees trapping Niall under him. Their faces are mere inches apart and their breaths mingle, a combination of alcohol and the usual minty aroma of Harry's favorite gum. But whereas Harry is stiff in shock and something else, Niall is relaxed and pliant, his grip on Harry's blazer gradually weakening. Even then, Harry doesn't move. He blames the eyes. Shining blue eyes that are impossibly too bright for someone as drunk as Niall.

Harry almost hisses as he feels pale hands completely leave their grip on his blazer and make their way slowly down his chest, barely brushing past his nipples. The shock of the sensation brings him back to reality and the brunette captures the small, pale hands (deceivingly innocent in their appearance) with one free hand and his grip painfully tight. 

"You're drunk, Niall. Go to sleep, I got to get home," 

But the gentle words doesn't match his low tone, his dark stare and his tense shoulders. It doesn't matter though. Niall won't even remember anything since the beginning of the party, let alone this late night exchange. Like always, he'll wake up the next morning, a pounding headache, a blur of memories and yet no questions to how he'd got home. 

"You can stay,"   
Harry takes in a sharp breath at those words and how suggestive they sound. But endlessly blue eyes merely blink up innocently back at him and Harry feels his stomach drop. He almost immediately draws away after that. Dropping the hands he has been holding so tightly and lifting himself away from the warmth and the hold of blue eyes, Harry removes himself from the bed, standing a safe distance from temptation. 

Harry keeps his eyes averted to the side and murmurs,"Can't. Have to meet Nick early tomorrow in the morning. And I don't have a car." The excuses slide easily from his tongue. 

Harry expects protests and maybe a swear word or two but Niall remains quiet and when Harry spares him a glance, Niall is pouting. The curly haired can't stop the corner of his lips from crooking up into a fond smile. Trust Niall to brighten up his mood in the midst of his internal struggle (even when he was the reason for it). "I'll drop by later tomorrow alright? Maybe Nando's to cure the hangover?"

It is common knowledge in the band that the mention of Nando's is usually a quick solution to a pouty Irishman, no matter the situation. And Harry is never against using it when in his disposal. (America was not a easy time for One Direction, in more ways than one).

But the blonde Irishman continues to pout, arms now crossed over his chest to emphasize how completely unhappy he is with the situation, even at the mention of Nando's. "I'm not really that drunk, you know,"

Harry hesitantly settles down on the edge of the bed, but still keeps his hands to himself. "Sorry to break it to you mate, but you're hammered," And Harry offers him one of his cheeky grins, usually charming enough for the recipient to take his word for anything.

But this is Niall.

"I'm not drunk!"

Harry quirks an eyebrow. This definitely isn't the usual drunk Niall. Drunk Niall is even more hyper and carefree than the usual Niall. This Niall, however, is just pouty and stubborn.

"Alright then, you're not. Go to sleep so you can hurry up and wake up to a hangover free morning."

"I don't want to sleep. Stop telling me to go to sleep." Niall is now blatantly glaring up at the younger boy. 

Harry sighs, suddenly feeling exhausted, "Do what you want then, I'm going home,"

When Harry makes a move to get up again, Niall makes a sound of protest in the back of his throat, and once again makes a grab for him, but this time catching his arm. "Wait! I need to tell you something,"

The brunette wants nothing more than to shake his arm off and stop the heat of soft hands from seeping into the sleeves of his arms. Harry once again feels the tension return in his muscles. "Can't it wait until tomorrow, Niall?" 

"No! It's going to be now! Im going to say it now! I got to!" Niall answers in a rush and Harry begins to wonder if he is talking to him or himself.

Suddenly a sense of dread fills him and realization settles in. There is no other explanation for Niall's odd behavior tonight. He knows. He probably knew about his feelings for him. And now Niall wanted to let Harry down gently or worse, yell at him for being a fag and how dare he like him-

"Please don't hate me,"

These are the first words he can come up with in this situation but it isn't his voice alone he hears echo the same words loudly through the dark room.

Their eyes meet, both reflecting disbelief and confusion. 

Niall appears absolutely shocked at this and he clambers up with some difficulty, to a sitting position on the bed, "Hate you? For what?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Harry replies softly, momentarily forgetting his mental breakdown mere moments ago.

"I-.." Niall stammers, turning his face to the side and averting his gaze now and he absently scratches his nose, a nervous habit. 

Curiosity floods Harry's mind and overwhelms any other emotion. "What is it? You can tell me anything - you know that. You know I'd never hate you, Nialler,"

Harry can see Niall hesitating and the blonde seemed to have forgotten that Harry has his own explaining to do. However, Niall is never one to keep things in for too long and it is only seconds before the dam breaks.

"It's just that. These last few weeks I've been...it's just been weird, like really weird." Niall answers vaguely, all the while keeping his gaze down on his own fingers which fidgets nervously around the blankets. 

Harry quirks his head to the side, bangs falling in his eyes which he doesn't bother to brush away, "Weird how?" He gently probes. 

Niall, gaining confidence, continues, "I mean it's weird around you. I'm weird around you," 

Harry can feel his heart quickening and his eyes darken as he takes in the sight of pink lips pressing together in nervousness. He breathes, "Me?"

"Yeah, you," and Niall finally looks up to meet the intense gaze of Harry's green orbs with eyes just as bright as before but this time, they are swimming with a hundred questions and secrets.

The curly haired lad feels a sudden push of confidence because tonight is different. He's different, Niall's different- 

And he slowly but surely reaches for a pale hand and holds it in his own, and he offers the blonde a shy smile, "I hope it's a good kind of different,"

Niall's reaction is better than he could've hoped for. Blonde eyes widen almost comically large and a pretty shade of pink immediately blossoms at his cheeks. "I- this is what I meant!" 

Jerking his hand out of Harry's reach Niall continues to rant, "It's like my face gets all red as if it's not bad enough that I'm always flushed anyways. And it gets hard to breathe even though I've already used my inhaler like a million times. Worst of all, my heart feels like it's in hyper drive-"

But Niall doesn't get to talk anymore because Harry's swallowed down the rest of his words and his lips are hard and hot against his own. 

And oh-

Niall doesn't waste another second to respond. He kisses back just as hard, just as desperate. His arms snake up around Harry's neck to bring their chests flushed together and it feels right.

They continue this for a thousand heartbeats or more, eager to explore each other's tastes but also to leave their own behind. Niall feels like he could do this forever. The solid weight of Harry on top of him and long fingers tangled in his hair and pressing warm against his cheek. He had never felt like this before. Even at the peak of his high on a drunken Saturday night can't compare to the rush he feels now.

Except Harry abruptly stops and pulls away. Niall doesn't even realize that he's groaning from the loss.

"Niall," Harry gasps, trying to pull back from the Irishman who's tugging him back in for a kiss. "Niall,"

"What? Harry, c'mon," Niall whines and when he arches up Harry almost loses it. But this is important, Niall is important.

"We got to stop. You're drunk, Niall. I can't do this to you. Hell, you might not even remember this tomorrow," Harry suddenly realizes and the harsh weight of that reality suddenly crushes him and his heart thrums rapidly now for a completely different reason.

When Niall feels Harry pulling back, he tightens his hold around Harry's neck while wrapping his legs around Harry's waist. Because god knows he needed all his strength to keep him down. "I told you I'm not that drunk. Well at least not anymore," Niall says this almost shyly and Harry's amazed how someone can go from being so needy and eager and dangerously sexy to this demeanor of innocence all in a matter of seconds. This boy was going to be the death of him.

"God damn it Niall."   

Harry lets himself get pulled in for a kiss. But this time it's one soft press of lips after another. Every one of them sending sparks to the tips of his toes. 

Niall giggles between kisses because he's happy. Harry makes him happy and he wants to show Harry how happy he makes him and maybe make him happy too. But again, Harry pulls back and unlike Niall, he's completely serious. His eyes are dark, almost black, and they're staring straight into Niall, who's suddenly breathless.

"If we do this I'm not going to stop." His voice is a low whisper, but if Niall  strains his ears he can imagine that he might hear his voice shaking, and rough around the edges. "I'm not going to stop. I don't mean just tonight. Or tomorrow. Or a month from now. Or even a year-"

By now, Niall's face is almost splitting from his grin. This time, it's Niall who cuts Harry off. Because Harry's sweet. But also because he's an idiot who doesn't know when to stop talking.

 

 

 

I CAN'T WRITE SMUT. This was supposed to be a smut scene but i've delayed it with useless fluff. I'm so sorry if you are disappointed. I mean the summary bltantly promises sex. I'm debating between changing the summary or writing a third part eith mediocre smut haha. I do want to get to writing other stuff I've had in mind (all Narry of course). But we will see :) anyways thanks for reading and constructive criticism is welcome! 


End file.
